


Crazy Bill's Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium

by hedylogos_wilde



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: A Silly Concept with Seriously Written Porn, Alternate Universe - Used Car Salesman, Banter, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POC Bill Cipher, Sexual Propositions, Stomach Kink, light aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 19:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15103379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedylogos_wilde/pseuds/hedylogos_wilde
Summary: “Great news for you, pine tree: there’s a way you can afford your dream car without a loan.”“Really?” Dipper perks up immediately. “What is it? I’m willing to try anything that won’t put me further in debt.”“Blow me.”If you need a ride, Crazy Bill's Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium will get you satisfied.





	Crazy Bill's Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't stop imagining Bill as a shady used car salesman so here's some smut
> 
> -Bill is in his early forties   
> -Dipper is somewhere around 22

“Welcome to Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium,” greets a high, rapid voice the moment Dipper steps onto the lot. A fat man wearing a hideous yellow suit hurdles towards him with surprising speed to shake his hand, nearly ripping his shoulder out of the socket. “We got minivans, sedans, convertibles, hatchbacks, compacts, transformers, crossbreeds, SUVs, RVs, DUIs, and limousines. If you need a ride, Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium will get you satisfied!”

“Hello,” Dipper squeaks, wrenching away his sore fingers, “You must be Crazy Bill.”

“I sure am.” Bill tosses his head back when he laughs, shows all his teeth. It’s an obnoxious sound, but he’s too enthusiastic for Dipper to find it truly unpleasant. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Dipper Pines, sir.” This earns him another painful handshake.

“Great to meet ya, pine tree. No need for any of that formal stuff; just call me Bill. What can I help you find today? We got minivans, sedans, convertibles—”

“Yes,” says Dipper quickly, “you mentioned that before. I’m just looking for an affordable, efficient car. My current one is so busted I had to take the bus here.”

“Geez kid, ain’t that just the pits?” He gives him a sympathetic slap on the shoulder that nearly sends him to the ground. “But don’t you worry! You’ve come to the right place. Somewhere on the premises of this here emporium is the car of your dreams. Can’t you just see it?” He has to stand on his toes to successfully drape a heavy arm on Dipper’s shoulder. He gazes off into the horizon.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

“Potential, kid.” He grins in Dipper’s face. “Possibility. The right car can bring a world of opportunity. You ever wanna be a getaway driver or commit a vehicular homicide?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Well with a gently used car from Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium, all sorts of doors to a life of crime will open. Now, let’s go find you a ride.”

In all honesty, Dipper doesn’t feel the most comfortable with this particular car dealer. There’s something about the place – he really can’t tell what – that makes it seem less than reputable. But Crazy Bill’s is his last resort; with the bank account balance of a college student eating cup noodles for three meals a day, he knows he has to take whatever his budget can get him. He follows close behind Bill through the rows of cars.

“See anything that catches your eye?”

“I don’t think so. Truth be told, I’m not very familiar with cars.”

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Dipper’s lost after the first three words. It doesn’t help that Bill talks a hundred miles a minute in edition to making very wild, distracting hand gestures as he speaks. Dipper decides that he’ll interject when Bill takes a moment to catch his breath. That doesn’t happen for ten minutes.

“I kind of like this one,” he says the second Bill goes quiet, pointing to a gray sedan.

“You got excellent taste, kid. That’s a 2005 model, still in great shape –” Bill goes off on one of his automobile tirades again. Dipper barely manages to catch information about fuel efficiency and previous miles the car has on it. As he tries to listen, he walks around the car for any signs of obvious damage. It looks to be in acceptable condition except for…

“What’s this stuff on here?”

“Excuse me?” Bill pauses his ranting.

“Right here on the front.” Splatters of dark red-brown _something_ are encrusted across the hood.

“Nothing that won’t come off with a little elbow grease, I’m sure.” Bill flashes one of his crooked smiles as he scrubs away at the suspicious stains with the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“I think I’ll keep looking.”

“Of course! I’ll lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper is thoroughly disappointed by the time they reach the end of the lot. Few cars he saw suited him, and even if they did, they were well out of his price range.

“I appreciate you taking the time to show me around, but I think I’m going to end up settling for that blue hatchback you showed me earlier.” Bill’s grin slides off his face.

“Settling? That’s not how we do things here at Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium. When I opened this establishment, I took an oath: not an oath of product reliability nor an oath of ethical business practice, but an oath of salesmanship.” He places a dramatic hand over his left breast. “I swore to do whatever it takes to peddle a car to every unsuspecting schmuck seeking to buy one off my lot. Today, Dipper, you are that schmuck. You’ll get your car; that is my promise to you. Now, follow me.”

“…Thanks.” He trails behind him, not knowing whether to be insulted or appreciative.

“No problem, kid. If you need a ride, Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts Emporium will get you satisfied. That’s our motto. I wrote it myself.”

“Doesn’t that name get to be a mouthful?”

“After thirteen years of business, I’m used to it. Plus, C.B.U.U.C.L.C.P.E doesn’t roll off the tongue as well. Does look spiffy on a t-shirt though. I’ll be sure to get you one.” He looks over his shoulder and winks. Dipper is surprised to find him almost charming.

They halt in a small garage next to the main building.

“Check it out, kid. I got this little honey in just this morning. I can tell she’s right up your ally.”

Dipper circles around the car. It’s forest green with no shady splatters on the paint, so already he finds himself liking it. He sits inside. He likes how his hands look on the dark leather steering wheel. “Hey Bill, what’s the fuel efficiency?” Silence. Dipper glances around, but there’s no Crazy Bill to be seen. A strange jitteriness runs through his fingertips. He doesn’t like not having Bill in his sights. The guy seems friendly enough, and he’s certainly a good salesman, but there’s something about him that makes Dipper feel—

“Hey kid!”

Unsettled. He nearly hits his head on the roof of the car. Bill laughs, long and loud, stomach jiggling.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. I just thought you might wanna test drive.” He climbs into the passenger seat. Dipper notices how soft his fingers are when he slaps the keys into the palm of his hand.

A drive around a couple of blocks and Dipper knows that this is the car he desires. Bill knows it too.

“Don’t think I don’t see that smile. What’d I tell ya, pine tree? This ride was practically sent here just for you.” Dipper steps out of the car and allows himself to split into a full grin.

“You’re right, this is the one. You don’t even know how relived I am to stop taking the bus.”

“I’m glad for ya.” Bill claps a hand on his shoulder. “And because you’re such a nice kid, I’m willing to sell this baby for only sixty-five hundred. Ain’t that a steal?”

“Um… yes, yeah that’s a really good price. There’s a bit of a problem though.” He wriggles his way out of Bill’s grip.

“What’s the matter? Bad credit, no credit? If you’ve got the bucks, Crazy Bill’s Uncertified Used Cars and Lifted Car Parts gives no fucks. I wrote that one too.”

“That’s the problem: I don’t have the bucks. My student loans already have me financially wrecked. I couldn’t afford that.” Bill’s entire demeanor shifts. His smile seems more akin to a vicious baring of teeth.

“That’s a pretty low price I’m proposing, kid. Don’t tell me you came here without any money to your name.” He stalks a few paces closer. The energy radiating from him gives Dipper chills.

“No no no, of course I have some money! I have five thousand dollars.” He fumbles around in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “Cash.” Bill licks his lips.

“Well if that’s the case, I’m sure we can work something out.” He yanks the money from Dipper’s sweating hand. “Come with me to my office.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Bill unfolds a pair of banana colored reading glasses to skim a few pieces of financial paperwork. He chews on a pen in the corner of his mouth as he concentrates. Dipper thinks about how uncomfortable his fold-out plastic chair is but soon becomes bored of silently complaining and glances around Bill’s office. That proves to be uninteresting as well; the room is all scuffed linoleum and hideous yellow paint. Dipper’s gaze is drawn in by the sound of Bill’s chewing, and he stares at his lips working around the pen until Bill slaps his palm on the desk.

“Great news for you, pine tree: there’s a way you can afford your dream car without a loan.”

“Really?” Dipper perks up immediately. “What is it? I’m willing to try anything that won’t put me further in debt.”

“Blow me.” Dipper blinks.

“Excuse me?”

“Suck me off, slob on my knob. You know—” he performs a vulgar pantomime of fellatio complete with slurps and moans. It’s disgusting, and Dipper feels embarrassed at the twitch of his traitorous cock against the zipper of his jeans. 

“Do you proposition all of your customers like this?”

“Nah.” Bill licks his lips. “Only the desperate ones. Only the _cute_ , desperate ones.” Dipper frowns.

“You admit you’re taking advantage of me.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I like to think of it as me giving you a very generous opportunity to afford something you need. You’re absolutely free to say no and use a traditional route to buy your car. You can even slap me in the face and storm out that door. But…”

“But?” Dipper shifts to the edge of his chair. Bill’s leering expression makes his throat dry.

“I know you’re much too smart to pass up such a lucrative opportunity. You’re really gonna benefit from accepting my offer. You get a car you can afford in exchange for only a small service. Plus, I’ll even take care of that boner of yours before it pokes somebody’s eye out.” Dipper’s face burns, mouth opening and closing a few times with no sound coming out.

“Lemme think about it,” he eventually manages to mumble. Bill hums.

“Of course. I gotta go take a piss. You mull it over in the meantime, ‘kay?” He gives Dipper a hearty pat on the shoulder as he walks out the door. Dipper is left to ponder his decision in the discomfort of a lumpy chair and an ugly yellow office. Fantastic.

_Would it really be so bad to accept?_ is the first thing Dipper thinks, and he immediately feels ashamed. Of course, it would be bad! A blow job in exchange for a discount on a used car? It sounds like the plot of a porno and not even a good porno at that. Sure, he is pretty desperate, and he does find Bill attractive enough that sucking his dick wouldn’t exactly be a chore, and the throbbing between his legs is aching to be soothed, but what about honor? What about decency? What about pride?

As he palms himself through his jeans, Dipper decides that honor, decency, and pride can, for the time being, take a fucking hike.

Bill returns a minute or two later. The way he leans back into his chair and props his feet on the corner of the desk is much too self-assured. It’s as if he already knows he’s gotten his way.

“So.”

“So.”

“Are you gonna suck my dick?” Dipper can’t help but snort a laugh because Bill’s tactlessness is downright comedic. But then again, this was not exactly a tactful type of transaction.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Go lock that door for me, would ya?” Bill asks while rummaging around the bottom drawer of his desk. “And close those blinds too. Unless you got a little exhibitionist streak…”

“I get nervous if someone looks at me while I blow my nose. I’d probably have an anxiety attack if I had an audience while blowing a dick.” Bill throws back his head and howls with amusement.

“You’re something else, pine tree! You’re an absolute madman!” He takes off his jacket and loosens his tie.

_No,_ Dipper thinks, _you’re the madman,_ but something about Bill’s obnoxious guffawing calms his nerves, so he keeps his thoughts to himself. Once Bill has gotten out all of his laughter at Dipper’s expense, he beckons him over.

“Don’t be shy. I ain’t gonna bite ya, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bite me either.” He reconsiders that. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a little bit of teeth, if you’re feeling kinky.”

“I’ve never been kinky a day in my life.” Dipper attempts to settle himself comfortably on his knees between Bill’s spread legs. Unfortunately, the office floor is quite cold and hard and not ideal for kneeling on while performing oral sex. Dipper supposes that he’ll just have to make due.

“Don’t you worry,” croons Bill. He tosses Dipper’s hat to the floor to card his thick fingers through his hair. “I’ve been told I have a way about me that brings out the best in people. We’ll make you kinky yet.” Dipper rolls his eyes.

“Just shut up and lift your hips.” He’s unzipped Bill’s pants and is struggling to pull them down his large thighs.

“See, you’re being kinky right now. Telling me to shut up like that has got me feeling all hot.” He assists Dipper with his efforts by standing for a moment to allow his pants and boxers to be yanked below his knees. Before he can even sit back down again, Dipper is eagerly mouthing at his hip, flicking his tongue along the stretchmarks marbled into the brown skin.

“So that’s why you didn’t just whip me out of my pants. You want to taste it all, huh?” Dipper, much too embarrassed to respond, merely buries his face into Bill’s soft flesh. A moan resonates from Bill’s throat when wet kisses are trailed down his inner thigh.

“Fuck — Fuck, pine tree, don’t be such a cock tease. Get on with it. C’mon, can’t find my dick or something?” He tugs none too gently at his hair.

“Yeah it’s kind of hard to find it with all of _this_ in the way.” Dipper squeezes the swell of Bill’s stomach, and his fingers sink in like it was fresh dough.

“Ooo, you’re mean. And here I thought you were a real sweet kid.” His feelings seem far from hurt, however. There’s a half smirk on his mouth as he settles back in his chair. “Fine. Keep pussyfooting around if you want to. I’m sure you’ll find something to suck eventually.”

Dipper presses his hands into Bill’s stomach again. It jiggles when he releases the pressure and damn, he never knew that was a sight that would make him throb so hard. He finds himself wanting to open up Bill’s shirt and watch how his tits jiggle too. He almost does but decides that it is a bit impolite to indulge himself on someone else’s time. He instead turns his attention between Bill’s legs.

Bill’s cock isn’t particularly attractive – most aren’t – but Dipper finds himself immediately drawn to it, eager to wrap his mouth around the plump head, anticipating the feeling of running his tongue over the already leaking slit—

“Hey.” Dipper jolts. He must have been staring for a while. There’s snickering above him. “You seem awestruck. I don’t blame you, of course.” Bill strokes himself lazily. “I know I’m magnificent.”

“Yeah, sure.” But Dipper can’t tear his gaze from the drop of precum rolling between Bill’s knuckles. “Can I… do it now?”

“Do what?”

“Suck you off.”

“Excited, huh? Hold your horses one more minute. Here.” He picks something off his desk, what he had been searching his drawer earlier for, and hands it to Dipper. It’s a condom. Dipper feels a knot in his stomach.

“Are you not clean?” Bill snorts.

“Of course, I’m clean. I got checked just a few weeks ago and haven’t been with anyone since. You know why I’m clean? Because I wrap up my dick before I stick it in anyone. Are _you_ clean?”

“Yes! I’ve gotten checked recently too.”

“Then there’s no problem. Hurry up.”

“I can’t believe you keep these in your office.” Dipper tears open the package and rolls the condom onto Bill with a few precise motions. The rubber is nearly the same shade as Bill’s suit.

“Your favorite color is yellow.”

“Well aren’t you astute?”

“I don’t understand why you have it everywhere though.”

“Aesthetic, kid. Aesthetic.” Dipper can admit to himself that the banana colored erection between Bill’s legs does look pleasing against the dark curls of hair surrounding it. He strokes it a few times then pops the tip into his mouth.

“Finally,” Bill hisses. He rubs the back of Dipper’s neck. “Yeah, that’s a good boy. Take it all in for me.” There’s something about the way Bill’s words drip with concupiscence that encourages Dipper to swallow down. Although not inexperienced, deep throating is not something he excels at. He takes in all he can fit comfortably and curls his hand around what he doesn’t reach. Bill’s coarse moans reflect his approval.

_This was honestly a really great decision_ , Dipper thinks to himself while massaging Bill’s sack. His throat burns deliciously from the stretch of Bill’s heavy cock. Bill’s thighs and belly radiate heat that surrounds Dipper’s face in a way that’s nearly suffocating; Dipper finds he enjoys that feeling of almost not getting enough air. The myriad of arousing sensations is accented by the desperate strain of his erection. It was easy to ignore at first but with Bill’s shameless grunting and the press of his fat stomach against Dipper’s forehead, Dipper can’t keep himself from unzipping his shorts and jacking himself off with his free hand.

The yank to the back of Dipper’s head comes hard and fast. He gasps a breath, panting, staring up at Bill’s sneering face.

“Am I boring you? Is sucking me off so unengaging that you have to start fiddling around with your own pathetic cock? Huh?” He pulls his hair again when Dipper doesn’t answer.

“Sorry, I just — aah… this is so fucking hot. I’m so turned on that it hurts, Bill, it _hurts_ —”

“I bet it does.” He doesn’t sound sympathetic. “You’re leaking through your undies. I bet if I stuck some fingers up that tight ass it would already be nice and soaking wet for me. You’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you? My fingers stretching you out so I can split you open on my fat cock. You’d go fucking wild for that.”

Bill is pressing buttons Dipper didn’t even know he had. He nods yes to everything Bill says: yes, he is an eager little slut, yes, he wants his mouth fucked, yes, he is desperate enough to cum in his underwear. At this point, Dipper feels as if he would say yes to anything if it meant getting an orgasm.

“I want it, please.” Dipper opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue. He stares at Bill with an expression that unabashedly demands that a cock be shoved roughly down his throat. At least that’s what Bill sees, and Bill is more than pleased to comply with such a modest request. His meaty hips slam into Dipper’s face. Dipper’s eyes water but he doesn’t even have a second to gag before Bill pulls out and plunges back in again.

“You can’t fool me; you’re a kinky little fucker. Getting treated like a fleshlight makes you all wet. You’re so hard for me! You love this.” He keeps a firm hold on Dipper’s hair. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. You don’t get anything until I cum.”

Dipper grips Bill’s thighs in a desperate attempt not to relieve his painful arousal. He’s crying now, overwhelmed with want and submerged in sensation. It’s an intense headspace he has never experienced before in his life.

 “Need me to stop? Can’t handle it?” Bill rests his cock on Dipper’s cheek so he can give a verbal response.

“No.” He’s surprised by the rawness of his own voice. “It hurts good. God, Bill, I didn’t know it could feel this good.” The smile Bill gives him makes his cock practically jump.

“Only a little bit more, pine tree. Then, I’m gonna make you feel fucking fantastic.” He moves past Dipper’s swollen lips with shallow thrusts, all the while showering him with praises of “gorgeous” and “slut”. Dipper is impossibly turned on and when Bill climaxes, groaning Dipper’s name, he feels close to cumming too.

Bill sighs when he slides out of Dipper’s mouth. The condom is removed and hastily tied off and tossed aside faster than Bill commands “Sit your ass on my desk”. Dipper stands shakily but is slow to obey, so Bill takes matters into his own hands. He hoists Dipper up with ease, settles between his legs, and gets to work pumping his cock in a tight fist. Dipper’s thighs quiver immediately.

“So close, so close…” he pants.

“Yeah? Do it then.” Bill’s hot breath fills his face as he hisses all sorts of filth. “Let it all go. Make a pretty mess all over yourself, you nasty little —" Dipper presses his spit slicked mouth against Bill’s. For the first time all day, Bill seems surprised by something. His hand stills. Dipper begins to pull away but then there are two hands on either side of his face holding it steady while Bill sucks on his tongue. Dipper wraps his fingers around himself and in one, two strokes he’s in motherfucking nirvana.

The high of orgasming lasts long after Dipper is done releasing cumshots across his shirt. He nearly tips over when he tries to stand. Bill lowers him down in his office chair.

“Take it easy, alright? No need to rush out of here. That was pretty intense.”

“Very intense,” Dipper rasps. He’s so tired he doesn’t even feel embarrassment about sitting there with his dick out. Bill has already pulled up his pants and is readjusting his tie. He would be put together if not for the smell of sex surrounding him.

“Sit tight a minute.” He slips out of the office. In his few minutes of absence, Dipper falls half asleep. He’s awakened by a water bottle being forced into his hand. “Drink up, kid.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything to take care of the customer.” Bill winks. Dipper had almost forgotten this was a transaction. He chugs down most of his water before laughing.

“You know, you should feel swindled.”

“Tell me why.” Bill plops down on his desk right where he had been jacking Dipper off not but a few minutes before.

“I’m walking away from this with a discounted car and the best orgasm I’ve had in months. This doesn’t really feel like payment on my part.”

“What’d I tell you? Crazy Bill will get you satisfied. You did pay me five thousand, so it’s not like you’re getting the car for free, but if you don’t want the discount —”

“I want it!”

“Of course you do. So, relax. No matter how much you enjoyed fulfilling your end of the bargain, I’ll still fulfil my end too. Catch.” Dipper fumbles the set of keys thrown at him. “Come on, that was easy.”

“Well sorry if I’m still out of it. I feel like taking a twelve-hour nap.” He curls up in the chair. Bill picks up the keys for him.

“Not that you haven’t been a pleasure — trust me, you’ve been really fucking pleasurable — but you can’t take that nap in my office. Let’s get you cleaned up and on your way.”

“Understandable.” Dipper reluctantly unfurls and works on getting himself in order. “But paper towels aren’t going to get this… stuff out of my shirt.”

“Oh, you mean the jizz? Yeah, that ain’t coming out. No problem though. I’ve got just the thing you need.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dipper starts up his newly purchased vehicle. From his left side mirror, he can see Bill waving goodbye, looking obviously self-satisfied even from a distance. _Shit eating grins may be closer than they appear_ , Dipper supposes.

He can only guess Bill’s smugness has to do with the shirt he’s wearing. The one he arrived with, now covered in stains, is stuffed in a plastic bag on the backseat. The new one is hideously yellow, impossibly tight, and proudly sports “C.B.U.U.C.L.C.P.E” across the chest in a font dangerously similar to comic sans. There’s a picture of Bill’s grinning mug beneath it. It’s an ugly shirt, it really is.

Dipper knows he’ll be keeping it.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
